Proving Sherlock Wrong
by Ifyousaysodearie
Summary: Short fluffy ficlet that I wrote as part of a valentines day exchange on tumblr for probing table. John gives a speech at the reception after marrying Sherlock.


The reception hall was full of smiling people, some friends and family but mostly old clients of Sherlock's that had gotten wind of the wedding and crawled out of the wood work. They had never meant for the ceremony to get as big as it had but Mycroft had told his mother that Sherlock was marrying John and it took off from there. John had to admit that he found it a bit amusing that this sweet older woman had such a control on Sherlock. The detective even agreed to let her arrange the wedding in the church that she had married his father. The event went from something small to something straight out of a bridal magazine.

Around the people in the room there were countless flowers of all different shades of white and yellow perfuming the air. The wait staff was even dressed to the nines as they dances about the room dropping off plates of food and drink to the guests with grace.

The rumble of the room quieted when Greg Lestrade stood to give his best man's speech for the pair of them. Many cried, John was even close to tears but he bit them back and forced a smile instead. This was just so extravagantly romantic and unexpected, when Sherlock had proposed they were just going to pop on down to the courthouse. John was very glad now that, that plan had failed them

When Greg was done with his speech John stood and embraced him while the guests clapped and cleaned away their tears. Waiting for the noise to die down he cleared his throat. Looking around the room and lifting his glass to his lips to wet his throat which was now incredibly dry. "Right, first of all I want to say thank you to all of you for coming today to share this with us." He gestured to Sherlock. "I have to be totally honest when I say that I never imagined anything this lovely for my wedding day. So thank you, all of you." He paused and looked to Sherlock who was watching him with curiosity. "Now that I've said that I have something very important to say to my husband and to all of you."

John inhaled softly and reached into his inner pocket of his well tailored black suit-coat. Pulling out an index card, hand shaking slightly. "I have to say Sherlock, you are by far the most brilliant, insane, wonderful and odd person that I have ever met. We all know your mind works on an entirely different level. You're clever beyond words and you love your theories which usually turn out to be correct. Today though I'm here to disprove one of those theories, the one about coincidence. I know you believe coincidence to be either non-existent or a lazy design flaw from the universe. I'm here to tell you that you are wrong and you have been all along." John smiled to his husband who was surprisingly quiet as he listened.

"I have my evidence so here it goes. Coincidence is the fact that several years ago when I was at my lowest point I did not simply stand up a good friend, Mike Stamford, for lunch. Sorry Mike, I hope you understand but I did show up that day so no harm no foul." John nodded to his friend who merely raised his glass when recognized.

"Coincidence is that after lunch instead of heading back to my horrible little flat that I couldn't afford I decided to follow Mike back to Saint Bart's to get a peek at my old stomping ground. Coincidence is that you just happened to be in the lab, experimenting on God knows what at the time and that we were introduced. The fact that you were looking for a flatmate as well and I was desperate enough to take up this peculiar stranger who had only just met me and had decided that I would be the person he invited to share 221B Baker Street with. It wasn't coincidence that I showed up, didn't have much of an option at the time really." John looked towards Sherlock and offered him a small smile.

"But it was coincidence that out of the billions of people on the planet you happened to bump into the one man who was willing to go along with the idea of moving in with a stranger who admitted to having a skull as a friend. The one man who could keep your attention long enough to get to know you past what others see. The one man who was impressed, not insulted by your deductions and enjoyed the game enough to become your partner in crime solving. It was this same coincidence that this one man would grown to be your best friend and to fall in love with you. It was amazing coincidence that you could love this one man, of all people, in return, enough so that we are here today with all of these wonderful people." John paused again as he felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes as they threatened to fall. Exhaling slowly through his nose.

"So you see Sherlock, you were wrong. Coincidence is not the universe being lazy or tripping over a design flaw. In our case the universe had to work exceptionally hard for us. It had to weave a very intricate tapestry and push us together at the right moment when we were both looking for a flatmate and found something else entirely. I have to believe that it was working on overtime for the pair of us because my happiness right now is entirely based on those precious coincidences that lead me to be John Hamish Watson-Holmes."

With that John dropped his index card to the table and turned to his husband gesturing for him to stand. When Sherlock did John embraced him and placed a tender, gentle kiss upon his cupid's bow. The crowd of guests cheered and Molly and Mrs. Hudson were all but sobbing. Sherlock did not have care enough to notice the rest of the room in that moment, utterly blown away at how perfectly John had disproved his theory in his speech.

John took his seat once more, finishing his glass of champagne as the throng resumed around them. Sherlock, Smiling to himself as he thought if the universe was truly this generous with him maybe he should stop doubting it so much.


End file.
